


they that won't see

by thisissirius



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Blind Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25311202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: “Eddie,” Buck says, and his voice is ridiculously high and panicked. He’s desperately trying to calm down but he went to sleep and now— “I can’t fucking see!”alternatively titledabuela and the no good, very bad grandchildren
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 362





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i know,i know. siri posting a wip. i have become the thing i dread. but this will kick my ass into writing i guess lmao.

The call isn’t necessarily a bad one. 

Buck doesn’t even remember what causes him to hit his head. One minute he’s helping someone down from the ladder, and the next he’s hitting the truck, breaking the caller’s fall with his own body. There’s a ringing in his ears and it takes him a moment to blink away the blurring in his vision, watching his helmet roll around at his feet when he finally manages to stand. 

“Hey, you okay?” Eddie’s got a hand on his shoulder, and he’s looking intently into Buck’s eyes. Checking for a concussion, probably, and Buck nods, wincing when he realizes that’s probably not the best idea. 

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You’re tracking okay,” Eddie says with a frown. 

“I’m fine,” Buck stresses. He’s got a headache, but he’ll pop a couple of pills and he’ll be fine.

“Idiot,” Eddie mutters. For a minute, Buck thinks he’s being addressed, but Eddie’s looking over his shoulder, to where the caller is being attended to. Chim and Hen are looking him over, so he’ll know soon enough whether there’s any lasting damage, but Buck looks back to see Eddie’s glare intensify. 

Laughing, Buck elbows Eddie in the side. “Hey, I’m fine. Not his fault he got stuck in a fire, man. Or that my helmet came off.”

Eddie flushes, pink dusting his cheeks and Buck shoves down whatever thing his chest is doing at that. Eddie throws one last glare at the caller before falling into step with Buck. “You’re coming over tonight, right?”

“Duh,” Buck says. “As if I’d pass up movie night with my favourite Diaz.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “You know I can never tell if it’s me or Chris, right?”

“Yep,” Buck says, popping the p. He climbs into the truck, ignoring the pounding in the back of his head. Bobby and Eddie quickly follow and they’re off back to the station, Hen and Chim in tow because the caller is apparently fine. Eddie's still muttering about that when they pull into the garage. 

“Calm down,” Buck says with a laugh. “I’m fine, drama queen, and so is he.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Sue me for being worried about you, asshole.”

Jokes about the lawsuit have stopped jarring so much and Buck sticks his tongue out, shedding his jacket and stretching. Eddie laughs while Buck grins, rubbing at the back of his head. He’s probably gonna have a nice bump there later and his headache is only gonna get worse if he doesn’t deal with it. Still, the tiredness wins out. “I’m gonna catch a nap. Wake me up in a couple of hours? If the alarm doesn’t go off,” he adds.

“I’ll wake you up every hour,” Eddie says instead, and he’s wearing his _don’t fuck with me_ expression. Concussion police, Buck thinks, making a kissy face at Eddie and tosses off a mock salute, backing into the bunk room. Eddie watches him go with another roll of his eyes. One day they’re going to roll right out of his head.

Buck climbs onto one of the higher bunks, mostly because he likes to be as high off the floor as possible — and no, he’s not going to think about why when he’s got a pounding headache already. He sinks into the mattress and sighs. He’s not been getting the best sleep lately, something else he’s not going to look at too hard, and curls on his side, shoving a hand under one of the pillows. 

It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep. 

There’s a shrill sound ringing through the room and Buck winces, stretches, and blinks. 

What. 

The fuck. 

“Shit,” he mutters and rubs at his eyes, blinking again and staring at the wall. 

Or where he thinks the wall should be. Panic blossoms in his chest and he grips the sheets beneath his hands. 

“Hey, you coming?” 

Eddie. 

“Eddie,” Buck says, and his voice is ridiculously high and panicked. He’s desperately trying to calm down but he went to sleep and now— “I can’t fucking see!”

There’s just silence. 

“Eddie!”

“I’m here,” Eddie says immediately, and he’s a lot closer than he was just now. Buck jumps when Eddie’s hand lands on his face, thumb against his cheek. “Is it black?”

“Kinda,” Buck says, swallowing, and trying not to cry. He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine.

Another pause. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“I don’t know.” Buck’s still talking too high, hand reaching out blindly—fuck—for Eddie. Immediately, Eddie’s hand finds his, his grip tight and sure. 

“I’ve got you, Buck.” Eddie’s tone makes something in Buck relax, though he’s really trying not to scream about how fucking unfair this is. He jerks back when Eddie yells, “Hen! CHIM!”

There’s the sound of footsteps and then, “You guys are needed at the truck!”

It sounds like Bobby and Buck’s breath comes in quick, sudden gasps. Oh god, he’s gonna get fired for sure. 

“Easy,” Eddie mutters, thumb brushing over Buck’s collarbone. When did his hand move? “Buck’s gone blind, Cap.”

“What,” Bobby says immediately.

Buck’s overwhelmed. Oh god, he’s blind. He can’t fucking see, and he’s gonna end up fired and alone and nobody’s gonna wanna come and see him because he’ll be a burden and— 

“Hey,” Eddie snaps, and he shakes Buck a little. “Stay with me, Buck, you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, his voice shaky. “Why can’t I see, Eddie?”

“You hit your head,” Eddie says immediately. “It could be any number of things.”

“Can he see your fingers?” Hen asks, and Buck jumps. He hadn’t heard her come in. Hadn’t seen her. Shit.

Eddie’s thumb is moving again, smoothing the skin of Buck’s neck and it’s got no right to be as soothing as it is. “No. He’s tracking, but not seeing anything.”

“Cortical blindness,” Hen says, and Buck jerks back when he realizes she’s closer. “Easy Buck.”

Buck’s chest feels tight and he tightens his grip on Eddie’s hand. Eddie squeezes back and Buck blows out a slow, shaky breath. “What’s gonna happen?”

“We’ll get you to the hospital,” Eddie says, and Buck likes how authoritative he sounds. It’s calming, but enough to drown out the sheer panic currently crowding Buck’s head. Thoughts of what he’ll do if it’s permanent and he can’t see ever again. Whether any of his friends will want him and— 

“What did I say about staying with me?” Eddie says quietly, as if he can hear the thoughts in Buck’s head. 

“Is Hen still here?”

A pause and some rustling.

“Not anymore,” Eddie says. More rustling and then Eddie’s hand moves from Buck’s neck to his leg. “We need to get you down from here.”

“I’m scared,” Buck says, and it’s hard to get out. Unconsciously, his hands clench into fists only to be soothed open again by Eddie’s fingers. “What if I’ll never—”

“Stop being defeatist,” Eddie says, but he’s not angry. It’s the voice Buck likes to call his Christopher voice, and Buck forces himself to listen. “We won’t know what’s happening until we see the doctor, alright? Come on, let’s get you down and to the hospital.”

Buck nods, wincing when his headache reminds him of its presence, and he focuses on Eddie’s hands as he helps Buck down from the bunk. “I’m scared,” he says again.

Eddie sighs, his breath ghosting against Buck’s cheek, and Buck jerks back, not aware Eddie’s standing so close. “Sorry.”

“No, I,” Buck starts, and then stops. He clenches his eyes shut. 

“Keep those open for me, Buck,” Eddie says, his voice all business again. “I need to be able to see what’s going on, yeah?”

Buck nods, not sure what to make of Eddie’s hand tight on his as he leads him through the station. He hears Bobby and Hen yell something, and figures they haven’t gone on the last call. He’s such a fucking burden, can’t even hit his head right. 

Checking out a little bit, Buck lets himself be manhandled into a truck — Eddie’s, from the feel of the seats — and settles back, hands on his knees and focusing on his breathing. He doesn’t know what to even think. What’s he gonna do if he can’t see? It’s like he’s back to months ago, sitting in his apartment and wondering what kind of job he’s gonna do if he can’t be a firefighter.

There’s a loud bang and he jumps. 

“Sorry,” Eddie says, and his hand lands on top of Buck’s. Buck’s fingers twitch. “Just shutting the door.”

“I can’t do this,” Buck says immediately. “I can’t be fucking blind, Eddie. What am I gonna do?”

“Right now,” Eddie says, voice hard, “We’re gonna drive to the hospital and talk to someone. Then we’re gonna talk about what’ll happen. Don’t think about the worst case scenario before we know what’s up, yeah?”

“Hen said cortical blindness,” Buck says, feeling the truck rumble to life beneath him as it roars loudly. Everything feels so much more right now. “What does that mean?”

“It means the damage is with your brain,” Eddie says after a long pause. Buck knows what it sounds like when Eddie doesn’t wanna be saying something. It’s the tone he’s using right then. Buck closes his eyes, ignoring what Eddie said about keeping them open. Eddie taps his fingers on the back of Buck’s hand. “Stop it.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” Buck shifts his hand out from under Eddie’s. “Stop acting like you do.”

Eddie falls silent, pulling his hand back, and it doesn’t take long for Buck to regret his words. Without Eddie touching him, talking to him, he’s left with the sounds of the truck, and the overwhelming fear that comes from not knowing what the fuck is going on with him. 

The truck starts to slow, and Buck can hear the noises that come with a hospital. He’s been in enough to know, and he swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. Wasn’t his doctor saying just the other day he’s got a clean bill of health? Figures that he’d kick the clots, the screws, and the fucking mental panic that came from getting crushed by a truck only to go blind. 

It almost makes him want to laugh. 

“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck jumps. Again. Fuck. “Come on.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck blurts, fumbling as he tries to get out of the truck, grateful for Eddie’s hand on his elbow. When he’s standing on the sidewalk, he feels Eddie’s hand curl around the back of his neck. It makes it easier to continue. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“I know you’re scared.” Eddie’s voice is unwavering. Buck doesn’t know how he can be so calm. It’s not until Eddie continues, and he sounds so fucking lost, that Buck realizes how often Eddie tries to be strong for everyone — and that he’s probably as scared as Buck. Almost as much as Buck. “I promise I’m gonna help you as much as I can, yeah?”

Buck nods, not trusting his voice, and waits for Eddie to close the door. He doesn’t jump when Eddie touches his elbow, but only because he’s listening, and can hear Eddie’s breathing, the rustle of his clothing as he comes up behind Buck. “Thanks.”

Eddie’s breathing hitches. “You don’t have to thank me for being decent, Buck.”

Shrugging, Buck lets Eddie guide him towards the hospital entrance. Their walk is punctuated by Eddie’s soft words of, “Step,” or, “Wait, car,” and Buck tries not to let the frustration win. He wishes he could see forms and shapes through the darkness, wishes he knew what was happening around him, but it’s all he can do not to be overwhelmed by the noises. People shouting, cars roaring down the road, sirens, talking. It’s more than he’s used to and if he twists his arm, catches a hold of Eddie’s hand and holds on tight, Eddie doesn’t say anything. 

“Let’s get you checked out,” Eddie says quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for hayley, who is a light in the darkness <3
> 
> LOVE YOU HAYLEY

Buck’s tapping his foot against the bedrail.

“Buck,” Eddie snaps. “Can you stop?”

“Sorry,” Buck says reflexively. “Is the fact that I’m trying to focus on something other than my fucking blindness annoying you?”

Silence. So maybe Buck should apologize, but he’s not going to. He’s angry and he’s tired and he’s _scared_. If Eddie wants to get bent out of shape about his foot tapping, then he can fuck off.

There’s the sound of the chair scraping on the floor. “Buck?”

It takes Buck a minute to register the volume of Eddie’s voice; a little louder than he would normally talk, and this time the shame causes a rush of heat in Buck’s face. He is an asshole. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Eddie says, and he drops his voice as he steps closer. Buck knows because he can hear the tap of Eddie’s fingers on the bed rail, the rustle of his clothes. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t — that this is messing you up.”

“I just got better,” Buck blurts, and turns his face away. “I just got the all clear, Eddie, and now I’m blind? What the fuck is wrong with me that things keep happening.”

There’s a hand on Buck’s face, turning him around despite his resistance.

“Listen to me,” Eddie says, his voice serious. “This is a fucked up situation, Buck, but not because there’s anything wrong with you, you understand me?”

“Eddie—”

“No,” Eddie snaps, and Buck swallows, forces himself to listen. He wishes he could see Eddie’s face. “None of this is because of _you_.” There’s a pause. Then, “If I could change any of this, I would in a heartbeat.”

Buck’s chest goes tight and he almost can’t breathe. “I hate this, Eddie.”

Something breaks in Buck, then, and he can feel the burn in his eyes, the tears that he tries to fight. Eddie’s arm comes around his neck and Buck is tugged towards Eddie. He lets himself cry, buries his face in Eddie’s neck, and feels Eddie’s hand in his hair. It’s all he can focus on; he tunes out the background noises, curls a hand into Eddie’s shirt and just lets go of all the emotions he’s been trying to fight for the last hour.

“You’re allowed to be scared,” Eddie says, pitching his voice low. “You’re allowed to be angry, and sad, and scared. I promise, Buck, there’s no wrong way to do this.”

“Fuck,” Buck whispers, grateful when the tears seem to stop. He swipes his free hand over his face as he pulls back, but doesn’t let go of Eddie’s shirt. “Where’s the doctor?”

“Right here, Mr. Buckley.”

Buck jumps and feels Eddie pull back a little. He takes Buck’s hand from his shirt but doesn’t let go, wrapping his fingers around Buck’s wrist. The point of contact is a good focus for Buck’s drifting mind.

“What’s the verdict?” Eddie asks.

“Are you happy for me to—”

“Yeah,” Buck says immediately because this isn’t his first rodeo. “Tell us both, it’s fine.”

The doctor does; he talks about head trauma and cortical blindness—Hen was right, then—and words like _temporary_ and _we hope_. They hope? Buck almost wants to snort. What do they think Buck’s doing?

“—We’re going to want updates about Mr. Buckley’s condition. Can I trust you’ll do that, at least?”

“No,” Buck interrupts before Eddie can say anything. “I was thinking maybe I’d just deal with this blindness on my own, doc. No problem.”

“Buck—” Eddie starts.

Buck shakes his head and tugs his wrist from Eddie’s grip. It’s disorientating and he’s gonna regret it in about five seconds, but he folds his arms across his chest. “I wanna go home. I get it, I’m blind, and I wanna go home.”

“Mr. Buckley—”

“ _Please_ ,” Buck stresses, this time looking at where he hopes Eddie still is.

“Yeah okay,” Eddie says immediately. Buck feels a little bad about using Eddie’s feelings against him. Just something else to feel guilty about. “Doc, you wanna talk outside?”

A pause. “Of course.”

There's rustling and footsteps and the long silence of being left behind. Buck’s no stranger to that feeling. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, unable to stop the blossom of hope when he pulls his hands away.

Nothing.

Figures.

“Thanks for your help.” Eddie’s being loud again, and Buck tunes into the conversation.

“Take care of him, Mr. Diaz.”

“I will,” Eddie assures him, and Buck grits his teeth so he doesn’t yell at Eddie again. God, like he’s a child that needs babying.

As soon as he hears the curtain pull back, and Eddie’s footsteps, he says, “I wanna go home.”

“Buck, the doctor thinks—”

“Whatever he wants to think,” Buck says. “I want to go home.”

Eddie pauses, and Buck can hear his breathing, the sounds of the hospital around them. He’s been stupid and irresponsible, at least he knows that’s what Maddie will say, but he doesn’t care. He wants something familiar. “All right. Someone should—”

“I don’t want anyone to stay with me,” Buck says immediately. “I want to go home and I want to be alone.”

Another silence and Buck turns away from Eddie.

“Sure,” Eddie says easily, but Buck can hear the pain he’s trying to hide. “I’ll take you home, Buck.”

Eddie doesn’t stay long.

He makes sure Buck’s got food and supplies, got his phone in his pocket, and tells him he’ll be back tomorrow. Buck remains silent because he’s a dick, but also because he’s scared and doesn’t know what to do. He’s broken down in front of Eddie once and he doesn’t want to do it again.

The door closes behind Eddie, and Buck remains on the couch. He wants to watch TV, but the remote isn’t on the coffee table. He fumbles around the couch but it’s not there either. The last time he remembers watching TV was with Christopher. Where would they have put it?

Frustrated, Buck curses under his breath and stands. Walking to the kitchen isn’t unlike when he wakes up in the dark and it takes him a moment to adjust — only this time there’s nothing visual to adjust too. He bangs his head on the stairs and curses, shuffling across the floor until he bangs into the island, whacking his hip. “Fuck!”

Angrily, he shuffles along the counters until he gets to the fridge — and the beer.

Reaching blindly into the fridge — fuck — he wraps his fingers around the neck of the bottle and tugs — hearing a woosh and the smash of glass on the floor. Buck steps back and winces as he steps on glass. Fuck. Buck runs his hand over the counter so that he can put the bottle back, and pulls his phone from his pocket. The smell of beer is strong and he runs his thumb over his phone. He doesn’t know how to get Eddie’s number up.

“Siri, call Eddie.

“Calling Eddie,” his phone responds cheerfully.

It rings three times. Nothing.

“Siri, call Eddie.”

Again, Siri responds. Again, Eddie doesn’t respond.

Buck’s foot is starting to sting and he knows he’s shaking as he looks around. Looks, ha. As if. Buck almost jumps when his phone starts to vibrate in his hand and his ringtone echoes loudly in the silence. “Eddie?”

“Sorry, I was driving,” Eddie says, almost breathless.

“I thought you weren’t answering because I was a dick,” and Buck closes his eyes. God, he’s blind not needy, why is he suddenly blurting out all these things?

Eddie sucks in a breath. “Buck, I know why you’re angry. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Can you come back?” Buck hears Eddie breathe harshly again and hurries to talk. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that stuff and I’m sorry but I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean you’re stuck?”

“I dropped a beer,” Buck says quietly. “I think I stepped in glass, it hurts and I’m sorry. I just—”

“I’ll be right there,” Eddie says immediately. “Don’t move, okay? I know it hurts but I won’t be long.”

“Eddie,” Buck starts.

Eddie sighs. “I’m upset, Buck, but I’m not mad, okay? I’ll be right there I promise.”

“I don’t want to stay here by myself.”

“I’m coming,” Eddie says again and hangs up.

Buck doesn’t know how long he stands in the middle of the kitchen, holding onto the counter and feeling the sting in his foot. He’s listening out for the key in the lock and almost sobs pathetically when the door opens.

“Buck,” Eddie says, his voice wrecked. “Hang on, I’ll get rid of the glass around you, alright?”

Nodding, Buck doesn’t know if Eddie can see him, but there’s the sound of a broom on the floor and then Eddie’s hand touches his elbow.

“This way,” Eddie says, tugging Buck gently. “Mind your foot.”

Buck tries not to put pressure on his heel as Eddie guides him to the table, pushing him down gently. Eddie lays a hand on the back of Buck’s calf, sliding slowly downward as he cradles Buck’s ankle.

“Why are you even barefoot?”

“Because I’m home,” Buck says. Duh.

Eddie snorts, and Buck can almost picture the expression on Eddie’s face. He immediately feels the press of despair against his chest. It fades as soon as Eddie starts talking. “I’m just going to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

Buck nods, frowns when Eddie’s hand trails up his leg, then to his shoulder, face, and hair. Fingers scratch lightly at Buck’s scalp. “Eddie?”

“Be right back.”

Eddie’s footsteps echo on the stairs and Buck turns his head as if he can see. He’s still frowning. Why is Eddie touching him so much? It’s — well, it’s nice but confusing. There’s a bang from his bathroom and, “Sorry, I’ll clean that up,” and then footsteps back on the stairs.

“You keep touching me,” Buck blurts out and wants to punch himself.

Eddie laughs gently. “I figured you wouldn’t mind knowing I’m still here.”

It’s actually really thoughtful and Buck swallows, opens his mouth, and then closes it. Eddie kneels down in front of him—Buck can feel his hand back on his ankle—and puts something on the floor. Maybe Buck’s first aid kit. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Eddie says, distracted. “This is gonna hurt.”

“Not as much as a truck,” Buck says.

Eddie snorts. “Too soon, Buck, too soon.”

Buck grins.

Eddie is careful with Buck’s foot. It’s not a surprise; Buck’s seen Eddie at work and he’s always known he’s got a soft touch with people. Buck’s just not used (much) to being the focus. The tsunami was the only other time he can remember Eddie treating him so carefully.

“I’m just gonna get the glass out and patch you up. It’ll sting.”

“I know,” Buck assures him, and reaches out blindly with his hand. Eddie catches it and rests it on his own shoulder. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Eddie says, and there’s a sharp sting. Buck hisses. “Or say sorry. I’m doing it because you’re my best friend, Buck.”

Buck’s heart aches. “I know you said not to, but I am sorry about yelling. It wasn’t fair.”

Eddie huffs. “I’ve never been blind.”

“Okay?” Buck frowns. He doesn’t know what that’s got to do with anything.

“I don’t know what you’re feeling,” Eddie says gently, and there’s another sting. Buck winces and Eddie rubs his thumb over the bone of Buck’s ankle. Buck squeezes Eddie’s shoulder. “When I was driving back home, I realized I should have waited you out. If I’d stayed, maybe you’d have come around.”

Buck laughs. “You sure?”

“No,” Eddie says with a laugh. He finishes cleaning up Buck’s foot and squeezes his ankle. “All done. Be careful.”

Eddie pulls back and Buck drops his hand to his lap.

“I’m still here,” Eddie says. “Just gonna sweep up this mess.”

“Eddie,” Buck starts, then cuts off. “I’m scared of the stairs and the—”

“I’ll call Maddie and see if she can stay,” Eddie says.

Again, Buck doesn’t know what to say.

“Is that okay? I wasn’t sure what you meant when you said you didn’t want to be here alone.”

“That’s fine.” Buck can hear the reluctance in his tone and knows Eddie’s gotta pick up on it.

“Or,” Eddie says, and Buck can hear him coming around the counter. “You could stay with me and Chris?”

Buck’s throat is tight. “You already have Chris to worry about.”

Eddie sighs and touches Buck’s neck. “I’d be worried about you even with Maddie. If you don’t want to, I understand—”

“No, I do,” Buck says quickly, not wanting Eddie to change his mind. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

There's silence, and then Eddie shakes Buck gently. “Buck, you’re never a burden.”

“You haven’t lived with a blind person.”

Eddie huffs. “Do I hate Chris?”

“Uh, no,” Buck says, confused.

“Then I won’t hate you. It won’t be easy,” Eddie continues, “but you’re worth it, Buck.”

There’s a lot that Buck can say, but none of the words come. He’s just grateful that he won’t have to do this alone. His apartment’s too quiet and he just wants to know someone else is around.

Buck hears the sound of Eddie sweeping up again, and he scratches at his knee. “Should I grab some clothes?”

Eddie hummed something. “No. I’ll grab you some clothes. Tell me how much you need and I’ll go.”

It irritates Buck that he can’t do it himself, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not fair to take it out on Eddie when Eddie’s trying to help him. Buck can’t deny he’s looking forward to being around Eddie more often — and Chris. Speaking of. “How’s Chris gonna take it?”

Laughing, Eddie sounds amused. “Are you kidding? He’ll love it.”

Buck can’t help but smile. He tries not to inject himself into Eddie’s time with Christopher too much. It doesn’t seem fair that Eddie’s gotta work and not see him already, without having to deal with Buck always being around. “You sure?”

“Stop fishing,” Eddie chastises, but he still sounds amused. “You know you’re his favourite person. Besides Abuela.”

“Yeah well, she’s my favourite Diaz too.”

Eddie flips him the bird. Buck can’t see it, but he knows and grins in response. Eddie huffs. Buck’s not sure he ever did that so much before, but he can’t remember. “I’ll tell Chris that, shall I?”

Buck presses a hand to his chest. “How could you betray me, Eddie? I would never put anybody above Chris.”

“Dilemma,” Eddie sing-songed as he passed. “Who’s your real favourite, Buck, Chris, or Abuela?”

That’s an unfair question, and when Buck says so, Eddie laughs all the way up the stairs.”What do you need?”

“You to make a decision for me?” Buck yells, and when Eddie laughs again, Buck smiles to himself. “Anything’ll do. Not like I can see what I look like.”

Eddie mutters something that Buck can’t hear, but he ignores Eddie moving around upstairs and fumbles with his phone.

“Siri, text Maddie. Staying at Eddie’s.” It’s not until he’s saying the words out loud that he realizes Maddie doesn’t know. Do the rest of the 188? “You tell the guys that I’m blind?”

Eddie yells no, but Buck realizes too late the text will send to Maddie with that included. “Siri, don’t send.”

He can’t see whether he’s actually texted Maddie. Frustrated, he slams the phone down on the counter and digs the palms of his hands into his eyes. Fuck, this sucks so much and he can’t breathe and—

“Hey,” Eddie says, hands curling gently over Buck’s wrists. “Breathe slowly, Buck. In and out, come on.”

Buck’s shaking — he’s such a loser— but tries to slow his breathing. Eddie’s touch is soothing and Buck focuses on it, closes his eyes because it’s not like he can see anyway.

“What’s the matter?”

“I can’t even send a text,” Buck bites out. “I asked Siri to text Maddie and then I think I included something about being blind and I didn’t mean to add that. I don’t know what I’m doing, Eddie.”

Eddie puts a hand on the back of Buck’s head, pulls him in. Buck resists, he doesn’t wanna take the comfort, but Eddie won’t relent. Buck presses his forehead to Eddie’s stomach. “I’ll take a look at the phone. I told Bobby what happened while we were in the hospital.”

Leaning across him, Eddie fumbles for something on the counter — Buck’s phone — and keeps contact with Buck’s hair. “It’s all right, it didn’t send. What do you want me to tell her?”

“That I need her to call when she finishes her shift. And help with figuring out Siri.”

“That I can do,” Eddie says. “I grabbed your clothes. Come on. I’m fairly sure Chris’ll lift your mood.”

Buck feels the same rush of affection he always does whenever Eddie mentions Chris, but he can’t imagine anything will make him feel better. He doesn’t have a timeframe for his blindness, he can’t text or even get a drink for himself without causing a disaster, and he’s about to be a burden on his best friend.

Yay.


	3. Chapter 3

“What the hell?” Maddie snaps and Buck winces. She sounds upset and angry. “You waited until now to tell me?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Buck says quietly. He knows it sounds dickish because she’s his sister and of course she wants to be with him, but he’s not lying; he’s with Eddie and it’s not like Maddie’s suddenly gonna bring his vision with her. “I’m fine, Maddie.”

Maddie makes a noise. “You’re not fine, you’re blind!”

Buck opens his mouth, closes it.

“Sorry,” Maddie says eventually. “I’m just worried about you. Do you want me to stay with you?”

“I’m at Eddie’s,” Buck says.

“Yeah, but you’re going home, right?”

Buck swipes at his face. “No. I kinda went home already and broke a glass. Eddie came to get me.”

Maddie’s quiet for a moment. “As long as you’re safe and happy.”

“I’m safe,” Buck says easily, because he’s never anything but with Eddie. “Happy’ll take time. Probably when I can see again.”

Another long silence.

“What?”

“What did the doctor say about that?”

Buck doesn’t actually know because he let Eddie focus on everything, but he’s sure the doctor said temporary, right? He shrugs even though he knows Maddie can’t see it. “It’s temporary, Maddie.”

As if she can detect the anger in his tone, she lets it go. “Call me if you need anything, yeah?”

“Sure,” Buck says, though he knows he won’t. Maddie doesn’t need him underfoot. Not now she’s starting to craft a life with Chim. He hangs up not long after and sits at Eddie’s table, tapping his phone against the wood.

Eddie’s humming somewhere outside the door, always making some fucking noise, and Buck looks up. “Everything all right?”

“It’s temporary, right?”

“What?”

Buck frowns. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m asking, Eddie. The blindness. It’s temporary, right?”

Eddie’s quiet for a moment. “You really didn’t listen to what the doctor said?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Buck rubs at his elbow with a half shrug. “I was too busy worrying about the fact that I’m blind. I wanted you there for a reason.”

There’s a soft intake of breath and Buck wishes he could see the expression on Eddie’s face. “Yes, it’s temporary.”

Buck can gauge Eddie’s tone. “Truth?”

The sound of someone shifting a chair. Then the rustle of clothing next to Buck. Eddie’s in front of him. “Buck, I wouldn’t lie about this.”

“I’m just—” Buck’s tired of saying the same thing over and over again. “I’m scared, Eddie. I’m not even dealing with this right now — look at where the fuck I am instead of at my apartment — so of course I’m worried it’s not gonna go away.”

Eddie’s breathing is harsh, but he touches Buck gently, like he’s scared Buck will bolt. Buck’s not sure he’s wrong. “I can’t make hard promises, Buck. I’m just telling you what the doctor said. Brains are tricky things, but I promise I won’t lie to you about this. Nothing has to change.”

“Of course it does,” Buck says immediately. He squeezes Eddie’s hand. “I’m not trying to be a dick, but I’m blind. Of course things have to change.”

Again, Buck wishes he could see Eddie’s face.

“I really wish I could see your face right now,” he blurts out. Then, “shit, sorry.”

Eddie’s laugh is gentle. “It’s all right. I kinda hate how you’re looking at me. Like you’re staring at me but there’s nobody there.”

“So nothing new?” Buck aims for a quip but it falls flat. He sighs, biting at his bottom lip. “I think I need to — I need to know what’s gonna happen if this doesn’t fix itself.”

“Why?” Eddie almost sounds offended.

“Because I didn’t do it with my leg,” Buck explains. He’s not sure he can go through that again. “I didn’t have an alternative because I didn’t want to consider it. But then the tsunami happened, and the blood clot and — Eddie, I can’t go through that again, and we both know I’ll never be a firefighter if this is permanent.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a long time. Then, he shifts on the floor, bones cracking as he stands. Buck winces on his behalf. “You think about it. It’s your life.”

It’s abrupt and Buck can’t deny it hurts, and he looks away. He doesn’t even know where Eddie is anyway. It’s not like he wants to contemplate a life without firefighting. God, that’s what got him into trouble before, but blindness isn’t the same as crushing his leg. It’s not like he can work and work and suddenly be okay. He’s _blind_.

“I’m blind.” Buck hopes Eddie’s still in the room. He doesn’t think he heard him leave. “I can’t stop that from being true.”

“It’s temporary,” Eddie says, and his voice breaks.

“Come here,” Buck asks, pleads, and hears Eddie breathing as he crouches down in front of him again. Buck reaches out, grateful when Eddie leans into the touch so he’s not flailing like an idiot. “What are you thinking?”

“You’re the one who—”

“And you’re my best friend,” Buck explains carefully. He’s still not sure he’s gonna get this right, especially not after the clusterfuck they always make of talking about emotions, but he’s gotta try. “Talk to me, Eddie.”

“I don’t want this for you.”

Buck laughs humorlessly. “Neither do I.”

“No, I mean, if I could switch us—”

“Stop it,” Buck snaps. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Unless you took my helmet off.”

Eddie blows out a breath. “Doesn’t make it easier to know your life is changing.”

“No,” Buck sighs.

“I’m also scared,” Eddie continues hesitantly, “about what it means if it’s not temporary.”

Buck doesn’t say anything, not sure he trusts his voice. He keeps a hold of Eddie’s hand and shrugs. “Then I still got you and Chris right?”

“That you don’t ever have to be afraid of,” Eddie says with a certainty that start;les Buck.

It doesn’t stop Buck from worrying anyway; Eddie says that now, but weeks down the road, if Buck’s still blind, what if he changes his mind? Buck’s not — he’s not gonna be able to do the same things. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses Eddie.

Buck’s on the couch, a glass on the coffee table in front of him, phone by his leg down the side of the couch, and Eddie pressed up against his side when he hears the door open over the low sound of the television.

“Dad!”

“Hey,” Eddie says, tapping Buck’s thigh before standing. “How was school?”

“It was good and we— Bucky!”

Buck grins as Chris cuts off and he hears the crutches against the floor. He stands slowly, unsurprised when he hears the sound of the crutches stop.

“What’s the matter, Daddy?”

“Bucky’s not feeling too well,” Eddie says gently. Buck’s sure he’s probably crouching in front of Christopher — he always likes to get on Chris’ level — with a hand on his shoulder. “Remember I said he had an accident at work?”

Buck wonders when Eddie spoke to Chris.

“Are you okay, Bucky?”

“Not really, buddy,” Buck says.

“Will a hug help?”

Buck almost wants to cry with how much that will, actually, help. “Yeah, Chris, it will.”

“Okay.” Chris’ crutches start up again. “Are you injured?”

It takes longer than Buck likes to admit, after Chris has reached him and Buck can take the hug he so desperately wants, to say the words. “I can’t see right now, Chris.”

Chris doesn’t say anything for a while, but his grip on Buck tightens a fraction. “It’s okay, kid,” Chris says eventually. “Dad and I can see for you.”

“Right, buddy,” Eddie says, and Buck can’t stop his eyes burning again. He hopes he’s not gonna spend half his life crying now.

There’s a pause, and when Chris finally pulls away, Buck feels another hand on his arm. “You all right, Buckaroo?”

Carla. “Yeah. I think so.”

Carla’s hugs are amazing, and Buck can’t see where his arms should go, but Carla doesn’t seem to mind. Buck pulls away a little quicker than he might have, thankful he can’t see whether Carla’s offended. “Looks like you’re well taken care of here.”

Chris laughs and promises to say goodbye to Carla. Buck looks in the direction he thinks Eddie is. “You sure this is okay?”

“I’m not sending you home,” Eddie says, and Buck’s right with his estimate; Eddie takes a few steps towards him, hand on Buck’s elbow. “You’re staying here until you can see — or until we figure out what’s going on for you.”

Buck thinks, slightly hysterically, that might take forever. “What if I never figure that out?”

“Then you stay forever,” Eddie says, with a touch of amusement.

Buck feels the want and longing that he’s never able to hide and he hopes he’s not obvious when his laugh is a beat too long. “I’m sure you’d love that.”

Shuffling in the direction of the kitchen—and Buck’s sure if he takes a step to the left and then carries on, he’ll hit the table—Buck’s not sure if the whispered, “Yeah,” is real or something he just wishes was real.


End file.
